


Fake Dating

by Jintard



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Homophobia, Human AU, Panic Attacks, Roman wants to piss off his homophobic parents, Virgil just tries to survive his crush, fake dating au, roman gets into fistfights, some violence, virgil has a protective streak a mile wide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jintard/pseuds/Jintard
Summary: Originally a Tumblr Prompt:My homophobic parents are coming to visit will you pretend to date me as an extra “fuck you”?Roman is getting fed up with his ignorant parents and decides set everything straight (or gay, really). He asks his best friend, Virgil, for help. Things get a bit more complicated with Virgil struggling with his huge crush on Roman.





	1. The Request

“Oh, come on Virgil. I’m asking you nicely,” Roman whined. He was sprawled on top of Virgil’s bed, as he had been for the past twenty minutes. Virgil rolled his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair, his sketchbook slowly filling up with different doodles, mostly of “prince” Roman fighting dragons (at the drama queen’s own request).

“Why do you insist on trying to start a war with your dad?” he drawled, starting to shade the dragon and adding a wand and a witch’s hat to it. This conversation had been going on for the past half an hour and he was only half-listening to his friend at this point, focusing more on the fact that a “dragon-witch” made no sense whatsoever.

Roman had come in unannounced almost an hour before and had proceeded to rant about his “asshole-dad with his asshole-opinions”. His parents belonged to that terrible group of people who were ignorant and bigoted, but worst of all, did not acknowledge that they were ignorant and bigoted. They’d say stuff like “we aren’t against the gays”, yet voted no to equal marriage and would worry about “teaching that stuff to kids”. They said they felt uncomfortable watching “them” hold hands or show any form of affection in public. They’d mention casually how they thought too liberal parents “turned” their kids gay and Virgil and Roman had not even touched upon their opinions on gender. Of course, they had also completely ignored Roman coming out of the closet a year or so ago (if you didn’t count the two weeks of silent treatment from his dad), and would still try to set him up on dates with girls.

From what Virgil had gathered before he started tuning Roman out, he’d just gotten off the phone with his mother. His parents were coming to visit and his mother had been very eager to plan some blind dates for her son. Roman had repeatedly told her it was unnecessary, until his dad had gotten on the phone and made a comment on how it was time for Roman to find a nice girl to settle down with and start a family.

After the first half an hour of ranting and pacing a hole in Virgil’s carpet, the dramatic man had finally collapsed onto his friends’ bed. And then he’d gotten the dumbest idea in the history of dumb ideas, as far as Virgil was concerned at least.

_ “Hey you should totally pretend to be my boyfriend. Might finally drive the truth straight, or gay, through their thick skulls.” _

_ “Absolutely not.” _

Virgil finished up his drawing with a small satisfied hum and closed his sketchbook. Roman dramatically (Virgil was starting to doubt the man could do anything normally) rolled off the bed and gave a groan.

“I don’t want to have a  _ war _ . I just want to get them to back off. Please?” he gave Virgil the biggest eyes and poutiest lips he could muster. The purple-haired man immediately turned his face away to avoid eye contact. Roman knew all his weaknesses.

“You do realise it could backfire, right? Like, terribly. People have disowned their kids for this shit…” he muttered. He himself had been lucky in that he had never really had to come out to his parents. Then again, them dying before he’d plucked up the courage had been the unlucky part. Most days he tried not to think too much about it. Those thoughts never led to anything good.

Roman gave a sigh and stared at the ceiling from his position on the floor. For the first time since he stormed in earlier he looked like he was actually calmly thinking about it all. Virgil let him, not saying a word, yet he couldn’t help but stare at him from the corner of his eyes.

Roman was probably the prettiest person he knew, with high cheekbones, strong jaw, straight nose, thick, shiny hair and a healthy tan with stray freckles on his cheeks. His eyelashes were long and the eyes they covered were a beautiful brown, and they glimmered in the light like liquid gold. They always looked ridiculous standing next to each other. One was the living embodiment of the modern Disney-prince while the other looked like a reject from a Tim Burton movie.

Virgil wondered whether Roman had any idea what kind of a position he was putting Virgil in when asking him to be his fake boyfriend. Of course. as the anxious wreck he was, he wondered whether Roman actually knew about his lame crush. Maybe this was a way for him to see if his suspicions were true. Maybe he’d laugh at Virgil’s naivety-, _no._ Virgil knew Roman well enough to know he’d never laugh at Virgil, but he still couldn’t help but worry for the worst-case-scenarios. Even if Roman didn’t know about the crush, acting as his boyfriend would surely expose him.

“I do get what you’re saying…” Roman mumbled from the floor and Virgil was dragged back to reality. “I just think it’s something I have to do. I’d rather get disowned then having them deny a part of me. I want to be wholly rejected, or wholly accepted, but I don’t want to be only half of who I am,” he kept staring at the ceiling, his fists clenching and unclenching, his brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Virgil stared down at the other. While Roman spoke in his usual confident voice, there was a vulnerability behind it, a longing Virgil knew well. Roman  _ was _ scared of the whole thing, but he wanted to be himself, and Virgil... how could Virgil deny him that?

“Fine,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair and tried not to think about the horrible, horrible dinner he had just agreed to. The things he did for love. _Ew._

Roman sat up and stared at Virgil with wide eyes.

“Wait, really?” he gaped. Virgil hunched up his shoulders and gave a shrug,trying his best to come off as indifferent.

“You owe me though. I get to decide on the next three movie-nights.”

“Yes!” Roman stood up and immediately glomped the other one. “You’re the most spectacularly amazing person alive! Right after me of course, but second place is very acceptable, and oh gosh, this is just perfect! Thank you, thank you,thank you!”

Virgil let himself get hugged, while trying to hide his blush. He had a weird feeling, somewhere between happiness for his friend and regret for letting his stupid self agree to the upcoming torture. His stomach didn’t know whether to get in knots or be infested by butterflies at the prospect of… what exactly, he wasn’t sure.

“Oh I could just  _ kiss you _ !”

Virgil was going to die.


	2. Roman, No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is stressing, and feeling anxious about the whole thing. Roman is a dramatic dork and has no sense of being discreet. So nothing new, really.

Virgil stared into the bathroom mirror. His face looked like a mess. 

While this was not an uncommon thought about himself, this time he considered his opinion to be completely justifiable. He had been applying, washing off, reapplying and washing off again his trademark eyeliner, and the end result was a zombie-like grey smudge fest below his eyes and on his cheeks.

He finally dragged his feet out of the bathroom and fell face first onto his bed with a groan. He knew he technically still had over an hour to get ready, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious about the whole thing. Could anyone blame him though? He was about to go to dinner with his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s parents. And sure, Roman may only be his fake boyfriend (or if you wanted to be specific, he was Roman’s), but he still had a humongous crush on him and he was still meeting his parents and he would still need to  _ act _ like a boyfriend.

Virgil also knew Roman had really asked him to be his fake boyfriend just so he could piss off his parents, but for some reason he still wanted to make a good impression. God, his brain was fucked up. Why had he agreed again?

Because he loved that over-the-top, glamorous, rainbow flag waving moron. God damn it.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and grabbed it.

**Roman:** _Open the door_

Virgil frowned in confusion for a moment, before realisation hit and he gave an exasperated groan. Of course that idiot would give absolutely no forewarning before coming over. What if Virgil was in the shower? Or at the store?

**Me:** _ass_

He got up anyway and went to the front door. The moment he opened it, he got a face full off rainbow. No, seriously.

“Roman, what the _fuck_?” he batted at the colourful cloth to get it away from his face. The offending piece of clothing was pulled back and Virgil finally got a glimpse of Roman’s beaming face… and hair.

“Roman, no.”

“Roman, YES!” the dork with the rainbow-hair shouted gleefully. He pushed his way into Virgil’s small apartement and the darker man could finally get a good look at what the other was holding. A suit. A suit with all the colours of the rainbow. It was probably the gayest thing Virgil had ever seen (except for the man holding it up) and he didn’t know whether to laugh or bang his head on the wall.

“Just… why?” he finally sighed, rubbing at his temples.

“It’s a statement!” 

That it certainly was. Virgil took a step back and looked at his crush (and he really questioned his own sanity at this point) and his ensemble. Red dress shoes and shirt, rainbow-tie, rainbow-hair, rainbow-suit and was that-? Yes, yes it was. Rainbow-socks.

“I’m not going to be seen in public with you dressed like that,” Virgil finally deadpanned. Roman made an offended noise, before pausing and quirking an eyebrow at his fake boyfriend.

“You sure you want to be seen by yourself either? What happened to your face?”

Virgil suddenly remembered the grey smudges on his cheeks and quickly brought up his sleeves to cover the mess. He felt his face heat up.

“Well, while you were coming up with ways to antagonize your parents, I was worrying whether my usual-, if the eyeliner was too much. But then when I washed it off, I felt dumb, so I applied it again, but then I started worrying again and it just-, it kinda spiralled from there,” he mumbled into his sleeves. If he had realised how much Roman considered this whole thing a joke, maybe he wouldn’t have made such a fool of himself. But of course Roman never even thought of Virgil as even a little bit of a real boyfriend, so of course he wasn’t actually nervous. Virgil knew this fake dating thing was a bad idea-

“Oh,” Roman breathed. “Oh, Virgil! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put so much pressure-! I’m really sorry. Okay, come on. I won’t put on the suit, okay?” he flung the ridiculous suit on the sofa and grabbed Virgil’s hands. “Come on, let’s wash that face and make us match,” he gently brought down the anxious mans hands and gave a wink.

Virgil felt his cheeks burn even more. It was really unfair of Roman to first make him feel so stupid one minute and suddenly the most important person in the world the next. Especially since the first was an accident and the second a conscious choice. God, why was the guy so sweet?

“I’m not dying my hair.”

Roman laughed loudly before dragging him back to his room.

“Nail polish then? Boyfriends need to show  _ some _ solidarity, right?” he threw another wink at him, before going to his bathroom and grabbing some makeup-remover and the small basket with Virgil’s different nail polish-bottles. He came back a second later and sat on the bed across from Virgil, smirking slightly at the way the other rolled his eyes.

“Fine. But you’re not wearing the tie either,” Virgil grumbled while closing his eyes. Roman started gently wiping off the remaining makeup.

“Party-pooper. Can I keep the socks at least?”

Virgil hummed in agreement. He knew he could not completely squash the inner drama of his fake boyfriend. Besides, it was hard to act grumpy when Roman’s gentle touch made him feel so relaxed.

“You could put some rainbow-eyeshadow,” The other snickered.

“Maybe for our fake wedding.”

Roman’s hand paused for a second, and Virgil immediately realised what he said. Had that been weird? Had he taken the joke too far? Did Roman realise his feelings? He totally realised his feelings.  _ Fuck. _

He opened his eyes, ready to face the disgusted look in Roman’s eyes. Instead he felt his heart skip a beat at the warm look the other was directing at him. 

The world stood still as the two stared at each other. Roman’s eyes were so warm, Virgil felt like they were the sole reason his cheeks were flaming. It felt like he was trapped under that gaze, but for some reason he wasn’t panicking. For some reason, despite his flaming cheeks, his racing heart and the butterflies in his stomach, the moment felt… right. It felt good. 

Virgil felt like they were both waiting for something, some  _ sign _ .

“Hard to imagine you out of your hoodie and in a tux,” Roman finally gave a grin and continued wiping the rest of the smudges from Virgil’s cheeks. The moment was broken.

Virgil swallowed and gave a sort of strangled laugh.

“You’d wear something ridiculous and over-the-top. Like a rainbow-tux,” he turned his eyes down to his lap.

His heart was still racing, the noise deafening in his ears. Something had almost happened. He didn’t know what, but he had sensed it. _Something._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first two chapters are posted. Do not however expect me to keep any sort of consistent updating-schedule. I am a procrastinator to the max, and have University to worry about. I'll post whenever I can though!


	3. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the dreaded meeting is taking place, and Virgil is already contemplating the pros and cons of descending to hell instead of enduring it.

“This was a bad idea.”

“Calm down. It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll be terrible. Why the hell did I agree to this?”

“Because you love me?”

Virgil groaned into his hands, both as a sign of his exasperation and to hide his blush. Roman had no idea how close he had come with that last remark, and Virgil would rather jump off a building than divulge that piece of information.

“Hey, seriously Virge.” Roman put his hand on his elbow in a comforting gesture. “It’ll be fine. I’m right here, and if things seem to go south, we’ll just bail and go get some takeout and enjoy a movie night at my place.”

Virgil lifted his head a fraction and peeked from behind his fringe. Roman was once again displaying that disgustingly sweet side of him, where he honestly put Virgil’s comfort above all else, without question. He was looking at the still blushing man with such warmth and intensity that Virgil thought to be unfair. At this rate it would not be his fault if an accidental ‘I love you’ slipped past his lips.

Of course he’d never let it come to that, but he still felt it only fair to blame the Disney prince beside him.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll manage. Just-, I’m not-, I don’t know how to act like a-. you know…” he mumbled, lowering his hands and shoving them into his hoodie pockets (Roman had not succeeded in getting him to discard the old thing). Roman laughed in his usual charming way and squeezed Virgil’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t you worry, J. Delightful. I’ll take the lead.” He gave an over-the-top saucy wink, and Virgil barely had the time to play off his blush with an eyeroll, before his new fake boyfriend waved to a middle-aged couple that had just arrived at the cafe. He briefly wondered if flirting with him had been purposefully done where Mr and Mrs Prince could see, but soon enough he had no time to worry about such things as the couple made their way to them.

“Roman!”

Mrs Prince immediately put her arms around her son, Roman gently hugging her back. Immediately Virgil felt the weight of the situation slam down on his shoulders. For all his complaining and anger at their views, Roman clearly loved his parents. And now Virgil would be partly blamed if the family was broken apart after today.  _ God, what he gotten himself into? _

Mrs Prince detached herself from Roman and turned curious if not slightly cautious eyes towards Virgil. He felt his heart freeze in his chest, the rhythmic thumping ceasing. She looked like a typical upper middle class suburban mom, her blonde hair slightly curled at the ends, and her dress and makeup looking only a fraction off on her, their style aimed for women at least ten years younger than her.

“You must be Roman’s… friend?” she smiled in a way Virgil knew far too well, trying to hide the incredible awkwardness she must be feeling. He felt like a deer in headlights, his head conveniently emptying of all coherent thought. How did people greet each other again? How did English language even work?

And then, just as her smile was dying on her lips, Virgil felt a warm, familiar arm across his shoulders, bringing him flush against Roman’s side. Though he felt the familiar flush of embarrassment rise on his cheeks, he could also feel the pressure on his lungs easing. The strong, comfortable presence the taller man always brought with him enveloped Virgil and he unconsciously leaned a bit closer.

“My boyfriend, mom. Virgil’s my boyfriend.”

And the feeling disappeared. So did Mrs Prince’s smile.

“Uh, um-, nice… to meet you,” he mustered out, his heart beating uncomfortably loud against his ribs. He was so far out of his comfort-zone it wasn’t even funny, but he had promised Roman he’d try. And so he took a breath, stepped away from Roman and towards his mother and offered his hand.

“Ro-, Roman has told me a lot about you,” he managed to say. A couple of seconds ticked by where both Princes looked him up and down, and he felt like sinking through the floor and straight to hell. Surely it would be much less terrifying down there.

“Nice to meet you.” Mrs Prince finally clasped his hand, with a tentative smile. She was a few inches shorter than him, and Virgil felt somewhat comforted by this. The tension eased a little and he could take a much needed gulp of air. Thankfully so, as Roman’s father shook his hand next, and unlike his wife, he did not even try to look happy about the situation. His gaze lingered briefly on the rainbow nail polish before darting to Roman’s colourful locks, his eyes narrowing fractionally. Virgil was far too happy to hide his hands in his pockets the second he could.

_ Thank god we’re not actually dating and I don’t actually have to get rejected by my boyfriend’s parents. _

What a sad day it was when Virgil had to be comforted by something like this. As their group found a table and everyone sat down, he tried to be optimistic. The introductions were over. Part one was complete.

Too bad part two was going to be a gazillion times harder.

“So, uhm, Virgil, how did you-, when did you, exactly, decide to-, um, do the whole, uh, ‘gay thing’?” Mrs Prince stumbled over her words. 

Virgil blinked, somewhat blindsided by the sheer ignorance of the question. He could see Roman tensing up from the corner of his eye, and gently tapped him on his knee under the table. Their eyes met for a brief second and Virgil did his best to silently convey that the dramatic dunce should for now refrain from starting a fight. He too was annoyed, but he’d rather not contribute to what was now clearly an unavoidable family-drama so early on in the meeting. They were in public.

“Well, uh, I never felt any attraction to, well, girls, or-, I mean-, it was never a question. I just always knew? Or-, uh, yeah.” Virgil fidgeted slightly. He somewhat absentmindedly realised this was the first time he was coming out to parents. They may not have been his, but the same need to find acceptance, or at least understanding was familiar. He felt like words weren’t sufficient to explain something that was so natural to him.  _ Why did only gay people have to come out? _

Roman grabbed his hand (which was still resting on his knee) under the table and gave it a squeeze. Virgil took a deep breath and squeezed back.

Mrs Prince had a somewhat conflicted expression on her face and she gave a quick glance to her husband, perhaps seeking for answers or reassurance, but Mr Prince’s eyes were fixed on Roman. He had not said a single word throughout the meeting, instead staring, or rather glaring at his son. Virgil could see where Roman had gotten his regal appearance from. Mr Prince looked like a grave king, listening to his messenger delivering displeasing news. Virgil could only hope no one would get shot.

When Mrs Prince got no help from her husband, she turned that awkward smile back to Virgil.

“Well, uhm, that sounds… a bit funny?” She gave a very fake laugh, and Roman’s hand squeezed tighter. 

“How so?” he asked. Virgil could almost hear the defensive walls slamming down at Roman’s tone.

“Well, just because you have yet to find a girl you like, doesn’t mean you should just stop looking.” She laughed again. “I’m sure you’ll find a lovely girl to settle down with. You and Roman both.”

Virgil felt the air rush out of his lungs. 

That was… He couldn’t… Did she just-, had he just been rejected by his boyfriend’s parents? Just like that? It did not even really matter that he and Roman were not actually dating. His stomach still tied itself into knots at the blatant dismissal of their relationship. She had basically told them that she wished they’d break up, right to their face.

Virgil heard a sharp intake of breath from his right.

“I’m dating  _ Virgil _ .” Roman’s hand tightened around his. “ _ Virgil _ is my  _ boyfriend _ . I have  _ NO  _ intention of breaking up with him!” Roman growled. "I'm _gay_ ," He had most likely felt the same indignation as Virgil. Of course, he did probably not feel the immediate heartbreak of having his crush’s parents reject him, but all the same. What if he had brought a guy he actually liked into this scenario? That would have been devastating!

Mrs Prince blinked in surprise, and opened her mouth, a vaguely regretful or perhaps defensive look on her face, but she never got to say anything.

“Quiet, Roman.”

Mr Prince had finally opened his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, hello and long time no see. I hope no one was awaiting anything sweet, because I clearly just ruined that for you. Sorry.  
> This was a very hard chapter to write. I very often relate to the emotions my characters experience, and this chapter provided a real roller coaster of anxiety, anger, sadness and fear, not to mention the occasional happy embarrassment. I hope I did the scene justice however, and I hope you enjoyed it, no matter how the introductions went!


	4. Who Will Throw the First Punch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the meeting with Roman's parents continues, Virgil reflects on the moment he and his fake-boyfriend first met. He wishes he knew how to protect him, how to save him from heartbreak.

_ Virgil still remembered quite well the first time he’d met Roman. He’d been walking around the campus, intent on getting to the library and getting some books for an essay, when he heard a commotion from the front of the building. Despite the cautious voice inside his head warning against going anywhere near possible confrontations, his curiosity for once won over and he made his way around the corner. _

_ A group of people were gathered around to watch what Virgil could only guess to be a fight just waiting to happen. Two guys Virgil recognized from one of his literature courses were stood side by side, hands clasped together, and both glaring at a third guy Virgil’s mind automatically knew was the source of whatever this was about. A second later the guy proved him right. _

_ “Fucking faggots. Pervs like you should just take your pussy-ass selves out of here! No one wants to see this fuckery!” He gestured vaguely at their hands, and the shorter one (Pat-something, if Virgil remembered correctly) seemed to almost shrink back for a moment, while the taller one took a step forward, eyes narrowing. _

_ “Who I decide to date is no concern of yours. Moreover, we are not disturbing anyone with our relationship, and you being uncomfortable with casual handholding is hardly anyone’s fault but your own.” _

_ Virgil felt vaguely impressed by the deadpan deliverance. But of course the moment didn’t last as the guy took a step closer to the tall guy (who Virgil still couldn’t remember the name of) and gave him a look so full of sheer disgust even Virgil, despite not even being close enough to be counted as part of the group staring, felt a flash of  _ something _. It was always difficult to discern what those types of looks made one feel. Perhaps anger, or sadness, maybe even shame, fear or plain desperation. _

_ “Fags like you shouldn’t even exist. You’re just fucking mistakes.” _

_ “And you’re making a big one right now!” _

_ Everyone turned to the source of the new voice and Virgil felt his stomach and chest fill with something unexpected. A guy, tall and strong and really too handsome to be allowed stomped through the crowd, his golden eyes flashing with fury. His windswept hair glinted in the sunlight, and his red and white bomber jacket whipped behind him like a cape as he rushed to stand between the couple and the jackass. He looked like a knight in shining armour. _

_ He looked like a prince. _

_ The jackass did not apparently get the same butterflies in his stomach as Virgil did and instead sneered into princey’s face. _

_ “What? The pansies need their own rescue party? Fucking pathetic aren’t you?” He threw a look at the couple, before taking another step forwards, now almost chest to chest with princey. “You a fag too? You a fucking prissy who takes it up the ass?” he mocked. _

_ “I usually top.” _

_ Virgil let out a breathy giggle. How could the guy make jokes in this situation? The asshole looked like he was ready to throw a punch! _

_ “Jesus Fuck. Creeps like you should go ahead and just die-” _

_ Well, Virgil had been wrong about who would throw the first punch. _

_ The next few minutes were a blur as people gave shouts of alarm and the two guys rolled around the ground, both throwing punches where they could, clawing and kicking where they could reach. Thankfully the tall boyfriend had enough sense to take command of the situation and get a few other guys to grab the asshole while he and Pat-something grabbed princey. Finally the two guys were separated, both with bloody lips, a small myriad of bruises and fire in their eyes, but thanks to the tall boyfriend everyone managed to diffuse the situation. The asshole left and the couple immediately started checking on princey’s injuries. _

_ People started dissipating from the scene, and Virgil was just about to do the same, but looking at how grateful the couple looked and seeing the triumphant look in princey’s eyes despite the clear pain he was in made him falter. He always carried some bandages, painkillers and other first-aid equipment with him, a habit left from his less than pleasant high school days, and the insistent tugging of his heart when he looked at princey made him set aside his social anxieties for a moment. _

_ He slowly made his way to the trio, fingers automatically tugging at his sleeves in a nervous habit. When he was almost upon the group, Pat-something looked up and their eyes met. _

_ “Virgil?” _

_ Oh god, the guy knew his name. Now him not knowing theirs was probably really rude. He should have tried memorising the roster. Fuck. _

_ “We’re in English Literature together,” the guy explained with a smile, cleary having noticed Virgil’s surprise. “I’m Patton, and this is Logan,” he said with a gesture to the tall boyfriend. “We sit two rows behind you.” _

_ “Uh, yeah, um.” Virgil gave an awkward nod before glancing at princey, who was looking at their interaction with light amusement. Well that was just great wasn’t it? His awkwardness probably looked and sounded ridiculous. _

_ “Oh, did you see how Roman saved us?” Patton beamed, noticing where he was looking. Virgil gave another nod, and decided to just get this awkward interaction over with as soon as possible, grabbing his backpack and plunging a hand inside. He quickly grabbed his old and worn first-aid kit and thrust it at the newly identified Roman.  _

_ “That was pretty brave…” he mumbled. _

_ After a second where Roman blinked at him in a stupified fashion, a bright grin spread across his face. _

_ “I could hardly do anything less! I do not stand for bigotry, and will certainly fight against it no matter what!” _

 

* * *

 

Virgil remembered his first time meeting Roman quite well, and he remembered how passionate and ready to defend himself and others he’d been even back then. So at the look that now formed on his fake-boyfriend’s face after Mr Prince’s words, he knew he needed to act fast or else all hope for a peaceful solution would be lost. 

So as Roman opened his mouth to start shouting, Virgil quickly slipped his hand in his and squeezed. When Roman faltered for a fraction of a second, Virgil pushed his advantage and gave both Mr and Mrs Prince a tentative smile.

“Maybe we should decide what to order?”

Roman’s mother gave a jerk of surprise before giving a strained smile back, while his father narrowed his eyes even further. Virgil felt Roman’s tension underneath his fingertips and he slowly massaged the back of his hand with his thumb. He glanced at him from below his fringe and saw Roman already looking at him, his jaw still tense, but a small smile formed on his lips, and Virgil felt him disentangling their fingers for a second, before grabbing hold of his hand again, this time Roman’s finger rubbing against Virgil’s hand.

Virgil quickly averted his gaze to the small plastic menu, hoping to hide his burning blush by focusing on the cake selection. He wondered if he should order the fruitcake, but disregarded that thought a second later. No need to order something that would make Mr Prince even more uncomfortable. Maybe cheesecake was better.

And of course when the waiter came to take their orders, Roman, who always,  _ always _ went for chocolate cake had to pick the fruitcake. While brushing his hand through his rainbow locks. It was in a creepily synchronised fashion that Virgil and Mr Prince sent withering looks towards the flamboyant doofus, but while Virgil could not quite hide the fond amusement in his eyes, Mr Prince’s expression made the dark boy remember his and Roman’s first meeting again, and the guy Roman had fought. It all made him decidedly uncomfortable.

Mrs Prince tried to make conversation, and Roman too, with Virgil’s hand in his, made his best attempt not to get confrontational, but just as Virgil had known all those years ago, he was sure someone would soon throw the first punch (verbal or physical was still up for debate).

As Roman once again grit his teeth and told his mother that no, he had not met any nice girls, and as he leaned towards Virgil to better get his point across, Mr Prince finally put his cup down, the force of it making the china clang loudly. Everyone at the table, and indeed in some of the tables close by, turned to look at him as he levelled his glare at Roman. It was definitely the same look as the guy Roman had confronted, and Virgil knew the first punch was about to be thrown.

“That is quite enough, Roman.” Mr Prince’s voice was cold and measured, and Virgil gulped.

Roman clenched his jaw and straightened his back, and Virgil felt his hand being squeezed tighter.

“What exactly is  _ enough _ ?” he asked slowly, his voice dangerously low. Virgil felt the uncomfortable knot that had slowly been forming in his stomach turn to stone, and his throat felt like it had swelled to prevent him from interfering. This was it. This was the start of a fight, and he was in the middle of it, and was partly to blame for it, and oh shit, he was  _ not _ ready.

“You’ve made your point very clear by now.” Mr Prince leaned back in his chair, in a way that was clearly meant to be condescending. “I understand that you have a need to act rebellious and that insisting you’re…  _ gay _ is a way for you to lash out, but frankly speaking it is getting old. You’re an adult already, and while you don’t necessarily need to find someone to marry right away, getting over this phase of your needs to happen sooner rather than later.”

Virgil’s hand was slowly losing feeling as Roman’s fingers squeezed harder and harder around it during his father’s speech, but at this point Virgil no longer cared. Mr Prince was making it quite clear that he did not accept his son, not this part at least. And Roman deserved to be accepted, every part of him. 

The knot of stone in Virgil’s stomach started to burn, Roman’s tense hand making a protective flame ignite in Virgil’s chest. His throat still kept him from speaking though, and he could do nothing but watch helplessly.

“It is important that you don’t let your childish rebellion get you mixed in the wrong crowd.” Here Mr Prince shot a rather meaningful look at Virgil, eyes clearly taking in his patchwork of a hoodie, the dark eyeshadow, the painted nails and the purple highlights in his hair. Virgil felt his face flush in shame, but the next second his hand had been released and Roman banged both of his fists on the table as he stood up, glaring at his dad.

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT VIRGIL THAT WAY!”

Virgil stared wide eyed at Roman, and the genuine indignation in his eyes. Now everyone in the cafe had stopped pretending not to be listening to their conversation, and all eyes were on them. Roman was red in the face, but unlike Virgil, his cheeks burned, not out of shame, but from anger.

“I’ve been trying not to punch you into next week all this meeting, because Virge  _ asked me to _ . He wanted to give you a chance, to let you apologize for being assholes, but I don’t fucking  _ care _ anymore.You’re never going to accept me, and frankly, who even cares?” Oh but he cared. He cared so, so much, and Virgil could  _ feel _ his pain as if it was his own. “But you insulting Virge, by implying we should break up? By saying he’s a ‘bad influence’? FUCK THAT!” Roman’s frame was shaking, and despite the fire in his eyes, Virgil knew it was not just from rage. 

Despite the many gay-jokes, the flamboyant hair, the socks, the fruitcake, Roman had desperately wanted his parents approval. And the clenched fists on the table, the tremors down his back, they all screamed of disappointment, of betrayal.

Virgil’s heart was breaking for him. He wanted to move, to grab Roman’s hand again, to make it better, somehow. But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Stop this. You’re making a scene.” Mr Prince said, his voice still cold, though some irritation peeking through.

“Oh I’m going to make a scene alright!” Roman threw his hands up in the air. “Either you accept me for who I am, or you can bloody well count on this being the last time you see me!”

For three seconds, the longest Virgil had ever experienced, no one said anything, Roman and Virgil were both holding their breath, waiting for Mr Prince to make a decision. Mrs Prince had her hands over her mouth, looking quite distressed, but meekly awaiting her husband’s final word. 

Virgil felt his heart thrumming in his ears, hoping against hope that everything might yet work out, yet knowing, as the seconds ticked by in complete silence, that his hopes were mere fantasy. Roman was trembling beside him, his jaw clenched, desperation barely kept at bay, and Virgil felt his heart flare with protectiveness. 

How could anyone deny Roman? How could anyone  _ not  _ see how absolutely perfect and amazing he was? How could that guy from all those years ago punch him? How could his own mother disregard his identity so easily? How could his father insult his feelings without any regret? How could Virgil just sit here and watch Roman’s heart breaking, the cracks in it growing deeper and longer? How could he  _ protect _ him?

Mr Prince stood up. He looked at both Roman and Virgil before grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. Mrs Prince made a small distressed sound but quickly got up as well, taking her own jacket, looking from her husband to her son and back again.

Mr Prince then looked Roman straight in the eye, his gaze cold, familiar, and so reminiscent of the look that guy had given him when Virgil first met him. And he remembered thinking how the guy was sure to be the first one to throw a punch. And he remembered how wrong he had been on that.

“ _ What a disappointment _ .”

Once again his predictions had been wrong. It was neither Roman nor his father who turned to violence first. 

**SLAM.**

He glared up at the man he’d thrown against the wall, hands still fisted in his shirt, eyes flashing and heart pounding.

“Fuck. You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le gasp, did I just update? Incredible.  
> So once again I'm ending a chapter with a cliffhanger (sorta). Will they ever end? Probably not. I seem to lack the ability to leave you all with a nice, satisfying ending, though on a happier not: it means more chapters? So... yay?


	5. Things that were broken and things that were mended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never would Virgil have thought he would do something like this. Never did he even think it was something he COULD do. What had gotten into him?

A deadly silence had filled the entire cafe.

All the customers had stopped pretending not to be looking at what was going on, and even the waiters had all screeched to a halt, staring at the scene. Virgil could feel each stare on his back, searing his skin, making his anxiety skyrocket, but his anger kept him grounded.

He knew he had a scary glare. People had always told him so, and the dark eyeshadow and dark clothing was sure to only enhance his demonic appearance, but even when he levelled his darkest glare at him, Mr Prince’s face did not show an ounce of fear. After the initial shock of Virgil slamming him into a wall, the older man’s face had morphed into a look of cold contempt, or maybe it was disgust. Somehow that infuriated Virgil even more.

“ _ You _ don’t get to call Roman a disappointment,” he growled, digging his knuckles into the man’s chest. “Roman is the  _ bravest _ , most  _ gentle _ , most  _ creative _ , most  _ beautiful _ person I’ve ever met, both inside and out, and it’s a miracle that he is, since apparently  _ none _ of those traits came from you.”

He could hear a gasp from somewhere behind him, and while he vaguely knew it was from Roman, he was too busy  _ hating _ the man in front of him to fully register it. How could someone be so cruel to their own son? 

Virgil remembered when he still had parents. He remembered how nice they had been, how warm, how… accepting. He’d never managed to pluck up the courage to tell them about himself, about that big secret, and in the end they had died before he had the chance to know their reactions. He didn’t know if he would have deserved a nice reaction. He had been pretty problematic, staying out late, smoking, whining, screaming, being a typical teenager. He knew he had been a lot to deal with, and he knew both his parents had worked hard for him. He still thought it was a miracle that they had been that patient and understanding and  _ good _ as they had been. But… if there was one thing he was absolutely certain of, it was that Roman of all people deserved a good reaction, a kind reaction. Roman of all people deserved not only acceptance, but praise!

“If there is a single disappointing thing about Roman, it’s that he is related to someone like  _ you _ .” he snarled, his voice cracking with emotion.

“ _ Virge… _ ” Roman’s voice sounded from behind Virgil, a weird sort of strangled quality to it, and finally,  _ finally _ , the rage-filled haze lifted from over Virgil’s eyes and he finally realised where he was, what he was doing.

Quick enough to give himself whiplash, he let go of Mr Prince and stumbled back a couple of steps. Suddenly the silence that the roaring in his ears had previously muffled, was all the more clear. All the stares his righteous anger had been able to block now broke through his shields, and he felt his skin catch on fire, his neck start burning, his lungs becoming smaller, taking in less and less oxygen.

_ Had he seriously just done that!? Had he really  _ pushed  _ a man he barely knew into a wall and  _ screamed  _ at him in front of all these people? What was wrong with him?? _

“Well, if this is the type of crowd you associate yourself with, it’s no wonder you’ve turned out like this.”

Virgil could only watch in abject horror as Mr Prince threw one final slight at Roman, before giving Virgil a look of pure disgust and turning around and walking right out of the cafe. After a second where Mrs Prince had a look that must’ve somewhat mirrored Virgil’s own, she too turned and fled after her husband, leaving Virgil to stare after them.

And then the silence came right back, a roar of emptiness, all eyes on Virgil, and realisation of what had happened hit him like a freight train. God, what had he done? How could he have done something so  _ stupid _ ? He had destroyed it all. He broke the connection between Roman and his parents. He had done the exact thing he had been most afraid of doing. 

_ His hands were shaking. _

He should never had agreed to this. He should not have gotten so involved. That hadn’t even been his job. Maybe he could have salvaged it if he had just kept his mouth shut. But he hadn’t. Instead he had  _ ruined _ it.

_ His face felt numb. _

Roman had hugged his mother so tightly. He loved her. He had wanted his parent’s acceptance, both of theirs. Virgil knew that feeling. He had wanted that same acceptance. He still did. But he had not only ruined it for himself. He had ruined it for  _ Roman _ .

_ The roaring in his ears drowned out the rest of the world. His vision was blurred, still focused on the door through which Roman’s parents had disappeared. _

Roman. Roman.  _ Roman _ .

_ Roman would  _ hate _ him _ .

“Virgil!”

Suddenly Roman’s face was there, concern etched into every line, hands hovering between the two. Virgil stared at him, his thoughts a repeat of  _ ‘he hates me, he hates me, he hates me’ _ , but the golden brown eyes looking at him were not angry. They were just worried.  _ Why?  _ Shouldn’t Virgil be the one worrying about Roman?

“Virge, you with me? Come on. Breathe with me: in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Come on buddy, you can do it.”

It was only when Virgil attempted to follow Roman’s instructions, as if on autopilot, that he realised he was hyperventilating. 

_ Oh. _

“Come on Virge. You can do it.” Roman encouraged.

Virgil stared at him. He stared at those gold-shimmering eyes, the long eyelashes, the high cheekbones, the strong hands still hovering between them, ready to catch Virgil if he fell, ready to wrap him in a hug if needed.  _ He took a deep gulping breath _ . He stared the the slightly hunched shoulders, the attempted crouch to make himself smaller, less intimidating (as if he could ever be intimidating to Virgil). He stared at that ridiculous rainbow coloured hair, the way it was still swept to the side in the elegant way the other man had seemingly been born with. _ He exhaled shakily _ . He stared at the worried scrunch of his eyebrows, the small, encouraging smile, and suddenly he felt his eyes burn and big, hot tears run down his cheeks.

“ _ I- I’m, I’m s-, so s-, sorry!” _ he choked out.  _ “I-, d-, didn’t… I didn’t mean to… _ ”

While he was no longer exactly hyperventilating, he still felt like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He lifted his shaking hands to his face, all pretense of being ‘cool’ or ‘edgy’ gone out the window as he rubbed at his burning eyes, smudging his makeup. The makeup Roman had put on him. God, he had screwed up so bad!

“Hey, hey, no. Virge, come on. Look at me?” Roman quickly reassured, lowering himself further, trying to peek through the gap between Virgil’s tearstained sleeves. Virgil only meekly shook his head. He didn’t want anybody to see him the way he was now. Least of all Roman.

After a few seconds where it was clear that Virgil was not about to emerge, Roman took a step back, but instead of abandoning Virgil (like the crying man thought he would) he opened up his arms. And without any conscious thought, he stepped right into them.

He must look and sound absolutely pathetic. Hunching in on himself in his overlarge hoodie, tears running down his face, hands shaking, makeup smudged, and blubbering out apologies between great heaving sobs. But instead of drawing back or pulling away, Roman only hugged him tighter.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he muttered into Virgil’s hair. “Thank you.”

What Roman could be thanking him for, Virgil didn’t know, but he was too busy crying to really protest.

“Excuse me,” Virgil felt Roman shift in order to focus on whoever was talking to them. He quickly muffled his sobs, a new wave of realisation hitting him on where exactly they were. He felt mortified all over again.

“Yes?” Roman’s voice rumbled in his chest, a calm, measured tone.

“I’m really sorry over what happened here. Oh, and sorry for, uh, eavesdropping, too.” The unknown person continued. Virgil burrowed his face further into Roman’s chest to avoid having anyone seeing his mess of a face. 

“Understandable. We did make a bit of a spectacle of ourselves. Sorry about that.”

Virgil felt terrible.

“Hey, no problem. Not really your fault from where I was standing.”

Yes. It was Virgil’s fault.

“Actually, I just wanted to ask if you guys needed a ride home or something? Uhh, I promise I’m not a creep or anything. It’s just, going on public transport or walking after something like that is kinda rough.”

There was a beat of silence where Virgil wondered whether he might be able to make up for his life-choices by jumping between Roman and a knife if this stranger turned out to be a maniac after all. People tended to be forgiven for their mistakes more easily after they were already dead.

“That… might actually be pretty nice. Thank you…?”

“Joan,” the stranger introduced themselves. “Me and Talyn will give you a ride home.”

“Thank you.”

 

Virgil was honestly not entirely sure on how he and Roman walked into Joan’s car, rode in it, got out, and into Roman’s apartment, what with himself being plastered against the taller man’s chest the entire time. It was honestly only after Roman had gently deposited him onto his sofa, and went into his bathroom, that Virgil finally seemed to come to. And he immediately felt bad. It wasn’t even he who had needed help or reassurance, yet Roman had been so nice to him. God,  _ Roman _ .

Virgil felt so incredibly selfish. Roman was the one who needed  _ him _ .  _ He _ had just had to watch his parents walk out of the door.  _ He _ was the one who was the most hurt. What on earth was Virgil doing, crying all over the place and forcing the other man to focus on him?

“Here we go.” Roman walked back out of the bathroom, a bottle of makeup-remover and wipes in his hands. Virgil could only watch in silence as he sat down, poured some liquid on a wipe and turned to him. “Close your eyes for me?”

Obediently Virgil did so, the emotional rollercoaster of a day, the hyperventilation and the crying having zapped him of his energy, leaving only a tired, self-loathing mess behind.

Roman gently, so gently, wiped the smudged makeup off his face, carefully dabbing around his eyes that felt itchy and swollen. He worked in silence, and Virgil was reminded of the noon of that very same day (he couldn’t believe it had really been only a few hours ago), when Roman had done the exact same thing, getting them both ready for the lunch. Virgil had been so nervous. They’d made jokes about their fake wedding. 

Virgil felt the hot ball of shame in his chest turn cold and sink into his stomach at that thought. Though he had always known he’d never have a chance with Roman, somehow the current situation only seemed to confirm it. It felt terrible. And then he felt even more terrible for thinking of such a thing after what just had happened. Was there no limit to his selfishness?

“Hey, hey, hey,” Roman quickly soothed, carefully wiping off the fresh tears that had sprung from Virgil’s eyes, onto his cheeks. He put the wipes back on the table and focused completely on Virgil. “Hey, shh, it’ll be okay.” He kept wiping the tears away, one hand moving slowly to Virgil’s neck, slowly massaging at the kinks there.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Roman blinked in surprise, something even Virgil could see through his blurred eyes. He hadn’t exactly meant to say it out loud, but he also didn’t feel like taking it back. It was true, after all. Roman was honestly just too good for him.

After a few seconds of stillness, Roman slowly went back to massaging Virgil’s neck, giving a small smile.

“I would have thought it was the other way around…” he mumbled. Virgil couldn’t help but send him an incredulous look, no matter how tired and emotionally exhausted he was. Roman gave a warm chuckle.

“There I went, dragging you into a high-stress situation, forcing you to meet my homophobic parents even though I  _ know _ you have anxiety. And then I completely messed it up by first antagonizing dad into insulting you. But then, when it came to  _ actually _ standing up to him, I just left it all to you, even though it wasn’t your responsibility. I just thought, ‘ _ Virge will save me _ ’ and left it at that. Just because you always end up saving me. And then I didn’t even immediately realise you were getting a panic-attack, and just stood there like an idiot. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, Virge.”

Virgil stared at Roman. How could this man, this brilliant, beautiful, too good to be true kind of a man ever think  _ he _ didn’t deserve  _ Virgil _ ? How could he look so apologetic, when it was Virgil who needed to beg for forgiveness?

“I ruined it all…” he croaked out. “I’m the one at fault.”

“ _ Ruined _ it?” Roman tilted his head in bewilderment. His fingers stopped moving on Virgil’s neck. “What on earth did you ruin?”

Virgil made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“Everything! I shouldn’t have-, I shouldn’t have shouted, or made a scene, or-, or pushed your dad. I just, I ruined it all, and I’m really sorry, I just-”

Suddenly both of Roman’s hands were on Virgile’s cheeks, cupping his face. The hands felt so big and gentle, and they were holding him like… like he was the most precious thing in the world. Virgil could do nothing but stare again into those golden brown eyes, unable to form words. It felt ridiculous to be silenced with such a small, gentle touch, but Roman’s hands had always had that effect on him. Inexplicably, they always calmed him down, made him still and quiet.

“What you did back there is probably the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. I wanted to do it myself, but I-, I just froze. But you? You  _ saved _ me. Just when I felt like a failure, you called me ‘brave’, ‘creative’, ‘beautiful’, and I-, I felt like I  _ was _ !” 

Now Virgil could see some tears threatening to spill from Roman’s eyes too.

“My dad made me feel like a reject, like I wasn’t enough. I didn’t know what do, or say, or even  _ feel _ . It felt so bad. But you turned that around in a  _ second _ . You made me feel… amazing. Like I was worth  _ ten  _ of my dad! That-, that’s the opposite of ‘ruining’ anything. You  _ fixed _ it!”

Roman’s lips looked wobbly, as if he was trying to hold himself back and not cry, but a tear had already gotten free from his glistening eyelashes. Yet he was still smiling, looking at Virgil, not in betrayal or disappointment, but in gratitude. He looked… like  _ Virgil _ might be worth something. And Virgil… in that moment, with Roman looking so perfect, and with the mess of emotions tangled inside his head... Virgil could honestly not help himself.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here we have a new chapter!  
> So sorry for the wait! And once again, sorry for the cliffhanger. I seem to have a problem with those.  
> So Virgil seems to be lacking a filter today, and that gets him into situations he would really rather not get into. Poor boy. Why do I torture him so?

**Author's Note:**

> First try at a series. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm going into this as blind as all of you guys.


End file.
